I am exhausted. Every day I keep looking out for signs that I am in labor. I still have some more time before my expected due date but I am exhausted. The back pains are killing me. Sitting down is a nightmare, standing up for long is hard, and no sleeping position is comfortable anymore.
I always want to cry when it is time to wake up because somehow, the gods of sleep always visit me at around 5 am. I am perpetually exhausted and I mostly wish to wake up a millionaire and I do not have to go to work every day.
My son is also tired of waiting. I keep being asked when my baby would be arriving because he thinks that my stomach cannot grow much bigger than it already is and if we leave him in there for long, he will soon be out of growing space and he might suffocate. You can see that he is genuinely worried.
He even has a tape measure just to check how much the stomach has grown. I do not blame him. I think he is getting tired of washing mummy’s feet because she is unable to wash them by herself. The days that I get to dream, I am always holding my baby or playing with him.
The anxiety has obviously been brought about by the fatigue but the fact that labor ward awaits me has not escaped me. Being a second time mum, I know for sure that no amount of labor ward tales and experience can prepare you for your own experience at that particular time. I have heard hilarious stories of women who hung and swung on hospital curtains as they sung, to those who threatened and cursed their spouses swearing to never get close to them again, to those who recited bible verses and preached as they sung traditional folklore songs.
I have also heard stories of delivery gone wrong including loss of lives and I am scared. I am keep changing my mind on the hospitals I would want to deliver from anytime I hear a story of delivery that didn’t go well in that hospital. I weep every time I hear a story of any life lost during delivery and I shake. Carrying a baby to term and having a safe delivery is a miracle.
During delivery of my first born, all was well until after I had given birth and I started to bleed to the point I lost consciousness. The pain I underwent as the nurses inserted their hands inside me to clean God knows what after episiotomy, is an experience I would never want to undergo again. I am praying for a safe delivery and patience as I wait for the baby and ability to sleep well although statistics show that I am about to forget about good night sleep for the next two years.
The funniest thing that has happened to me is that cravings have decided to hit on the last trimester. I cannot get enough of Fanta orange, chocolates and I love ugali. I also have this bad habit of badly wanting something and completely losing interest ten minutes later.
I am praying that I will not develop any weird or expensive cravings. I also need a hairstyle that will be able to last me long enough before I heed to this inner voice that keeps telling me shaving is cool.